


Tightrope

by Fangirlcraze



Category: Amazingphil - Fandom, Danisnotonfire - Fandom, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Amazingphil - Freeform, Anxiety, Barbara the pharmacist is not helpful, Insomnia, M/M, Mental Illness, Trigger Warning I Guess?, danisnotonfire - Freeform, im writing this instead of my AP paper haha help, the pharmacist switched our medicines au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-16 20:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8115727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirlcraze/pseuds/Fangirlcraze
Summary: "We both have different medical problems and the pharmacist just switched up our medicines" AU





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written quickly in a short amount of time, so sorry for how shit it is. I'll probably come back later and fix and tweak it up a bit

  Dan almost screamed when he saw the name imprinted in the label on the pill bottle. The bottle supposedly holding his dearly beloved medicine that he has to fight bitchy receptionists, tired overworked doctors, and shitty pharmacists for just so he can stay sane for 30 days before inevitably repeating the same process. And he got the wrong prescription.

 

_**Temazepam**_

_Phillip Michael Lester_

_Take one per night_

 

You had to be fucking kidding. He got some other kid's medicine? What the fuck was this even for? How the fuck do you mix anxiety medicine up with this bullshit? They were the same size and color pills, meaning Dan didn't notice the problem until about 12 hours after he had taken it and was shaking and shivering over not being able to find the television remote. He couldn't tell if he wanted to punch soemthing or cry himself to sleep. He was sweating, and his hands were fidgeting. He was picking at his fingers again. Not the nails, the actual skin on his finger pads. Just, picking away at the pink scar tissue as he read the label 20 times over.

He began looking up the Temazepam on his phone. 

_May treat Inosmnia and drug withdrawal. Avoid alcohol as very serious interactions can occur, causing slow breathing and possibly lead to death._

 

Fuck. This paranoid kid out there can't sleep- or he's had a drug problem. Some sleepy kid was walking around with his bottle of medicine, probably wondering why the fuck he can't fall asleep. He felt like he was going to throw up.

Tugging on his shoes, Dan ran out the door, with his wallet, keys, and the bottle of the wrong prescription.

 

 

Dan didn't know any conversation between someone and their pharmacist could take so long. Yet, here he is waiting in line behind an old man who decided to tell their pharmacist how his dogs are doing. Apparently, Freddy has been shedding a lot, and he doesn't know how to control it. Bambi has destoyed his wife's curtains and now the cat isnt allowed in the living room anymore. Dodie is sick and they arent sure if it worms or fleas or what. Dan's left pointer finger was now bleeding. In an attempt to stop picking himself raw, he pulled the collar of his jumper in a fanning motion to try and cool himself down. How was he sweating in 10 degree weather? Was he dying? Why didn't he check the label before he took this damn pill?

He could feel sweat literally dripping down his back. This was normal, though. Sweating was a key Anxiety Attack clue for Dan. Antiperspirant deoderants were no match for his pure panic.

"Alright now, i'll see you in a couple weeks then, Mr. Fouser." the pharmacist said, while Dan murmured a collective prayer to all the gods he can think of- even some superheroes too, just in case. As the old man moved his cane less than an inch with every step he took, Dan jumped back and forth on his feet. He couldnt stay still. He probably looked like a giant man child waiting to get on a rollercoaster. As soon as he saw a clear path to that counter, he took it, almost tripping over his feet in the meantime.

He held up the pill bottle. "H-hi, I think I was given the wrong prescription yesterday. I called in for Clonazepam and this is Temazepam."

The lady looked confused. As if Dan was playing some ridiculous prank on her. Do people do that? Teenagers? Go and have a cheeky prank on the pharmacist? "I'm sorry, can I see the prescription from your doctor?"

Dan faltered. "I-I don't have it. I came in for my prescription yesterday and gave it to you. It was literally you, the same person." He remembered her now. Same makeup, same hairstyle, different scrubs.

"Sir, I can't fill a prescription unless you have a signed note from your doctor."

Dan set the pill bottle down and ran a hand through his sweaty fringe. "I have my wallet- I have my insurance card and my ID. You can't go through yesterday's history or something? I was just here. You don't remember me from yesterday?" He glanced at her name tag. "Barbara, please. I had a black jumper on yesterday with white stars."

"I can't just give you a different medication."

"But this is the wrong one! I took one of someone else's medicine, and they probably have mine, and took that too, wondering why they all of a sudden can't sleep!" His voice was getting loud as he spoke faster. He was practically squeaking and his throat was so dry. So dry.

"Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you to calm down. Take some Xanax or something."

Are you fucking kidding me?

"Xanax is not my prescription! Please Barbara, can you at least find out who's prescription this is so I can try to find the poor sod who's surprisingly, not here yet and complaining as well."

She hummed a bit, pursing her lips. They were decorated in a nice red lip color that went really well with her complexion, but also was about 10 hours old and when her lips pursed, you could count the little cracks. "Can I have your doctor's office number? I'll call and see what I can do."

Dan huffed, writing down the office name and number for her. It was ridiculous, but still, progress. She told him 45 minutes, in which he spent about 40 of it in the bathroom, trying not to have a panic attack. Some employee who stopped in at the urinal gave him a funny look and avoided washing his hands before exiting; Dan couldn't tell if it was because of him or maybe the guy doesnt wash them anyways. Dan made a mental note to not touch anything as he splashed water on his face and down his throat. Imagine walking into a bathroom to see some 6 foot dude crying in front of the sink and counting backwards from a hundred and naming capitals.

"Jersualem, Juba, Kabul, Kampala, Kathmandu.." He spat out in front of the mirror. He even banged his hand against his head a few times. It was a motive he used to use when he was younger. Beat the worry out of your head. His parents thought he was going to be put in a mental institution. He never usually did it, as he looked fucking insane. Now, it seemed the only way possible to not think about the fact that he may never have his pills again.

His head hurt. His heart was beating in his ears. He couldn't tell if he was sweating anymore, because he couldn't feel his entire body. His movements were blurry. He kept splashing water on his face as he couldn't remember already doing it for the past 15 minutes.

Eventually, he made it back out of the bathroom and over to the pharmacy part of the shop, sitting down in one of the seats and rolling up his sleeves. He looked up. Great. There was a line. And lovely Barbara was helping the lady at the counter, with a guy stood behind her in his pajamas. Dan snorted for a moment at the cookie monster pajama bottoms. How iconic. The guy also had a shirt on with tiny emoticons and black framed glasses. He didn't particularly match, but he seemed like the nerdy guy who just woke up, sweeping his black fringe out of his face. After squinting, Dan noticed the shirt was avengers themed. There was captain america's shield, hawkeye's arrow, mjolnir, an iron man helmet. He counted all of the shield on the back of the shirt, and then all of mjolnirs, and so on.

32, 29, 45, 30, 26.

Somehow, he was able to breathe again without puffing his chest out like he was trying to impress someone.

 

 

Phil never thought he'd be at the pharmacy at 11 am for a prescription. The pharmacy was 24 hour, so he usually picked his prescription up at about 2:30 am. He got on well with the girl at the counter, Katie. Unfortunately, he'd have to explain to this other pharmacist how his prescription had somehow gotten mixed up with a certain Daniel James Howell. Who apparently takes anxiety medication, which Phil knows thanks to a handy dandy Google search.

He pondered how this other bloke, Daniel, was getting along. Has he realized he had gotten the wrong pills? Has he even noticed? Perhaps he got the right pills, and they just made another one of the same and had given it to phil.

Either way, phil has gone 24 hours without a blink of sleep for the first time in over a week, and that needed to change. He took off work that day, which made about 5 of his coworkers scoff. They probably think he just blew them all off. They dont believe hes an insomniac. Although, most people dont.

When he told his parents after extensively googling it every night, they told him hes just messed up his sleep schedule. They didn't believe he had gone 72 hours without sleep. His mum told him he'd just need to get some rest, and when she heard him crying in bed at 4 am, she finally understood.

It took about a year to find the right medicaton to help Phil sleep. And now he's had his mistaken with someone else's. The thought that he could never get his back crossed his mind, but quickly diminished. His parents always kept a spare bottle at their house. All night hes been trying to sleep, to no avail. He tried pushing all of his thoughts to the back of his head and instead singing songs he's heard on the radio. Yet he still ended up calling his mother at 7am to tell her he wants to visit again.

He is constantly afraid that his parents will grow old and he'll never see it. Which was fine, but he had just seen them 2 weeks ago. His mother made quite a point in explaining that, following up with a question about what medicines he's been taking.

This was what made him look at the label. At first he thought he read it wrong, but it did indeed fact say:

**_Clonazepam_ **

_Daniel James Howell_

_Take one per every 12 hour period with meal._

Phil had thought for a long second he was going crazy. The pills in the bottle looked exactly the same as his actual prescription, and the name even semi-resembled his. But, it was not. It did not help him sleep. It made his brain foggy and he couldn't seem to really focus on one thought, but he was still kept awake and exasperated. He wasn't even sure how this helps anxiety. Does this guy just sit around all day zoning out like a stoner? Maybe he has a drug addiction, and he's just using this prescription as one. Maybe he doesn't even care that his pills were switched up.

 So now he is waiting in line at the pharmacy in his pajamas he didn't bother changing out of, pondering if you could consider taking a copious amount of these as "drug abuse". There was a lady in front of him in line picking up her migraine medicine. Phil glanced around while waiting, and his eyes laid on a guy sweating in one of the waiting chairs. Like, profusely sweating. His curly fringe stuck to his forehead, and he was picking at his cherry red fingers, huffing and puffing. Phil couldn't tell if he was in need of a fix, or was having a panic attack. He almost wanted to go over and help, but the guy also gave off this general look of "if you come near me, I'm going to catapult you into the sun". He quietly hoped that the guy would feel better soon.

He turned back to the front of the line. Why does this one lady have to take forever to get migraine medicine? He saw the guy come up behind him in line out of the corner of his eye. The guy sniffled and wiped his nose, looking like a lil rabbit.  
  
_Phil why did you just compare this man on the verge of a mental breakdown to a tiny woodland creature._  
  
Finally, the lady in front of him signed for her stuff and said a farewell. Phil stepped forward, a yawn escaping his mouth before he spoke.  
  
"Hi, I picked up my medication last night and it turned out to be the wrong one. This one is for uhh" He read the label "Daniel James Howell, which is like... nowhere close to phil and-" He hears a gasp from behind him. He internally groaned. Wow, can this guy like, contain himself for 5 minutes until Phil can get his sleeping pills? What was he even sobbing about anyways? He felt a tap on his shoulder.  
  
Turning around with a huff, he saw the guy much closer. His skin was visibly hot, sweat dripping down the side of his forehead, and stray curls of his fringe sticking flat to his forehead. His eyes weren't bloodshot, but he looked absolutely freaked. He was wearing a black jumper with the sleeves rolled up above his elbows, and black skinny jeans. No wonder he was sweating. His arm was an odd shade of splotchey red on pale. And that was when phil realized he was holding up a bottle with phil's name on it.  
  
"I-I got your meds" the guys said, stuttering slightly in the beginning and then bringing up his confidence as the sentence ended. "They must've switched it up or something"  
  
Phil was shell shocked. His mouth was slightly agape as he had originally opened it to complain about the guy having a breakdown in the middle of the pharmacy, but now his words were nowhere to be found. He promptly closed his mouth, and held up the pill bottle in his hand. The guy's-well, Daniel's- eyes flicked over to the bottle hungrily. Phil held the bottle out to him and Daniel took it without a word, dropping phil's precious bottle into his pale palm.  
  
Phil looked back up, and man it was quite a sight to see this guy choke down a pill dry like it was his last source of water. Although, maybe he was using sweat as a liquid. _Gross, too far Phil._  He noticed the tiny moles (or "beauty marks" as his mum called them) spread out variously among the guy's face. When he grimaced, Phil saw a small dimple imprinted in his right cheek.  
  
After Daniel had deep throated some pills, he seemed less tense. As if medicines work that quickly. He took a deep breath and smiled lightly at Phil.

God, he could melt under that smile.

"I'm Dan by the way" He said, and the dimple in his cheek shined.  
  
"Phil."  
  
"You wanna grab some coffee or something?"  
  
Phil has avoided coffee ever since before he was prescribed. Coffee was for staying awake. And yet, all he wanted to do was stay awake with Dan.  
  
"Absolutely."


End file.
